


give my hands their one true purpose

by sevendeadlyfun



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Five Times, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2289572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.</i> Different variations on a theme or Five Times for Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give my hands their one true purpose

**Author's Note:**

> So my unpopular MMFD opinion is that Finn is the LBD of the fandom and he goes with EVERYTHING. This is my attempt to prove that with a good old "five times" fic. Title taken from the poem [Lucia](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/248662) by Ravi Shankar - a poem I think fits Finn marvelously well.

**_Izzy:_ **

Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.

The bottle lands on Iz and then him – seven minutes in heaven. He’s no student of the divine but he figures the afterlife for something better than a grimy cupboard. Still it’s how the game works. The handle of the door turns easily in his hand and he swings it open with a gentle flourish. Following her into the dark, he closes the door behind them.

He reaches out a hand to trail down her arm, pulling her closer. Izzy’s soft gasp sets something alight in the pit of his belly and he enjoys the way her skin trembles under his hand. Curling a strand of hair around his finger, Finn leans in to press a delicate kiss against the corner of her mouth.

She turns her head, her lips meeting his, and he leans in to the kiss. Her stiff nipples rub against his chest and he moans- a quiet noise swallowed by her eager mouth. Her hands pull through his hair, tugging him closer, and he follows, his mouth teasing a path down her neck.

“Finn,” she says and he loves hearing his name like this, his lips and hands pulling soft needy sounds from desperate mouths.

The door rattles and he pulls away. “Time’s up!”

 “Chop don’t sound pleased,” he says to her, reaching for the door.

“Then he should’ve kissed me himself,” she replies, voice soft. “Was it – did I-”

“Lovely,” he says. “No better girl to share a cupboard with, Iz.”

 The light of the hall hits him in the eye, forcing him from the soft darkness back to the noise and press of the party. He gestures for Izzy to go ahead of him. He’s not quite ready to get back to the game.

 

 

_**Archie:** _

Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.

Later, when the game’s over and everyone’s crashing, he crawls over to lay next to Archie. He don’t like sleeping alone in strange places and, if asked, he’d come up with some sort of reasonable explanation. The truth is he half-believes in monsters and fairies and all those stories his Nan told him when he was a wee one. One thing those tales always promised was that you couldn’t be got if someone you loved was nearby. Archie’s his best mate and that’s love enough to keep the spooks at bay in a strange house.

Like two halves of one whole, their bodies curl towards one another on instinct. Careless limbs splay across familiar bodies, lax and loose in sleep. Finn knows that no matter who comes in to his life, he’ll never be as comfortable with them as he is with Archie. 

“Finn?” Archie’s voice is thick with sleep.

“Yeah mate?”

“Tonight in the game?”

 Finn smiles into Archie’s shoulder. “You kissed a fair few blokes, yeah?”

 “Yeah, but - ” Archie trails off and Finn waits, eyes closed. “Would you have – I mean, if the bottle had landed on you - ”

Moving his head forward, Finn presses a firm kiss on Archie’s closed lips. Flicking his tongue out to taste him, Finn smiles into the kiss as Archie opens his mouth. He tastes of stale beer and crisps but it’s a sweet kiss for all that ending only when Archie pulls back.

“Don’t need no bottle for that, Archer,” Finn tells him, voice soft and solemn.

“Good to know.” The words are faint and come with a whoosh of air as Archie struggles to catch his breath.

“Night, mate,” Finn says, wiggling down into the cushion on the floor. He suspects Archie’ll be up for a bit but that’s all right. He likes knowing he can still surprise even his best mate from time to time.

 

_**Chloe:** _

Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.

The bottle spins again and again. He’s kissed a few girls, watched Chop finally land lips on Izzy and laughed as she kissed him dizzy. When it swings around to Chloe, he doesn’t hesitate and leans over to meet her across the bottle.

She tastes like fruit, something sweet and sticky, and her lips are soft. It reminds him of the last time they kissed, at the rave, and how her hands had wandered down his body. His hands wandered too, sliding under that short skirt and into her pants.

Hand coming up to cup her cheek, Finn kisses her and ignores the cheers from the others seated in the circle. He remembers more than he admits and wonders if she remembers too. Wonders if she brings herself off thinking about his hands on her cunt, his lips on her neck. The soft whimper in his mouth makes him think she does.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he pulls his lips away and smiles at her from beneath his fringe. After the rave, he’d said people shouldn’t kiss unless they really meant it. He just wants her to know he really meant this kiss. 

 

_**Chop:** _

Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.

It’s mostly lads playing tonight which is likely not what Chop had in mind; he doesn’t seem that fussed about it, though, if his enthusiasm is any measure. Finn suspects that Chop’s just happy to get a handful of someone regardless. Makes him a good mate, his readiness to go along with whatever happens – makes him a better person, Finn figures, and wishes he could be like that sometimes.

That sweet feeling, fondness mixed with a bit of envy, bubbles in his stomach and when the bottle swings his way, he doesn’t hesitate. He clambers up onto his knees and kisses Chop firmly on the lips. Chop’s lips are dry and rough and taste sweeter than he would’ve guessed. Finn knows now why Izzy’s so eager to get another kiss from him.

The kiss doesn’t linger but that’s all right enough. Chop’s blushing red and grabbing at one of the pillows scattered around the room; putting it in his lap, he sits back in the circle. He won’t look at Finn but Finn isn’t ready to look anywhere else just yet.

 

_**Rae:** _

Another night, another party and Chop’s got the bottle out in hopes of someone being willing to try it on with him. Finn’s not as eager for this as he used to be. More and more this whole charade seem like a way to patch up the holes inside– quick fixes made using tongues instead of polyfilla – but he keeps playing because quick touches are better than no touches.

He’s weary and heartsick. Rae’s dodged him for days and even now she’s sitting as far away as she can, curled into herself and not meeting his eyes. Probably it isn’t a good idea for the two of them to be at the same party playing a game like this but Finn just can’t be arsed to care anymore. There’s too much and not enough between them. Figuring out what’s what is beyond him right now and when the bottle spins to him, he closes his eyes because of course he’s got to kiss her here in front of everyone. Brilliant.

She’s not moving and he thinks he sees tears in the corners of eyes. Fuck if he’s gonna push his way across a crowd to make a crying girl kiss him. He stands up, weaving his way through the press of bodies, and looks down at her.

Dropping to his knees in front of her, he reaches out a to stroke her cheek. The shimmer in the corner of her eyes becomes a flood and the tears drop silently on his outstretched hand. Learning forward, he presses his lips to her forehead and pulls her toward him. Hugging her close, Finn hides her tears from the rest of the crowd and listens as they start spinning the bottle again.

“Rae,” he whisphers. “You don’t hafta tell me what’s wrong. Just – if you want to.”

She nods into his shoulder and he presses another kiss against her temple. Her fingers uncurl from his shirt, letting him go – again. It shouldn’t hurt but it does. Still and all, she trusted him enough to let him hide her tears and that’s something. Even if it’s not a kiss, it’s something.

Right now, he’ll take anything he can get.  


End file.
